


The Telltale Heart

by KayStoneheart



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-27
Updated: 2016-10-27
Packaged: 2018-08-27 09:55:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8397112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KayStoneheart/pseuds/KayStoneheart
Summary: Jamison Fawkes was mocked for his ruined, thrift store clothes, nicknamed Junkrat. Mako Rutledge, ever quiet, was not sure how he got the nickname of "Roadhog" but he also wasn't sure if it even bothered him. The two unofficially meet without the permission of a mutual friend, and things go uphill (or downhill, depending on perspective) from there.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a first attempt at any fanfiction really. There might be a bit of projection onto one or two characters, but I tried to stay in character as I could. Leave a comment!
> 
> Edit: I updated the formatting, because at the time of posting I had no goddamn clue.

Opening his eyes, Jamison Fawkes heard deafening silence, broken by two things: the heavy breathing of the large man next to him, and the ticking of the clock to his right. The room was dark, and slightly cold; Jamie wanted to do nothing but stay under the covers, but he didn’t know this man, and he had no particular interest to get to know him. All he really was? Stress relief, a one night stand. The scrawny boy sat up, unclothed, his bare chest feeling the chill. He looked over at this person, and noticed the claw marks up and don his back. Smirking slightly, he moved quietly to get out of bed, and reached for his prosthetic leg leaning against the nightstand.  
As he worked to find all his clothes, he questioned: why? Why bother screwing him, it’s not like it was even that good. If anything it was half an hour of disappointment. _'Oh really?'_ A voice called back. _'You and I both know you don’t leave those kind of marks out of disappointment.'_ Jamie conceded this fact, that he somewhat did enjoy the roughness. But why this man? What was it that turned him on so much? _'Jamie, Junky, the man’s a firefighter! We both know your love for firefighters.'_ His inner voice laughed. The… interest in flame was a driving force in a lot of these fucks- if not a firefighter, an arsonist. He’s almost gone out with someone who knew how to make great bombs, but decided against it after a second thought.

Jamie was dreading the long walk back to campus. He wasn’t even sure the old jacket would last that long, if he was honest with himself. He’d sewn it up so many times, he lost count. Using patches he’d made himself where the hole was too big to be sewn itself. A yellow smiley face stood out on his left side. He would have to find a new jacket, soon. He knew it would only embolden the people who harass him, call him “Junkrat” but. At this point what did he care? He embraced the nickname. And besides, the people at this college were vicious, it isn’t like they’d find something else to mock him for. Lena was always nice though. She was currently the only one he actually considered a friend. Well, Lucio, but he didn’t have a mean bone in his body, so long as you didn’t get between him and his music. Those two were the only ones he talked to on a regular basis.  
Jamie looked up with a start, just noticing that he’d somehow gotten outside without realizing it. He did this on occasion, got lost in his own thoughts while his body developed a mind of its own. Pulling the jacket closed, but still feeling the icy bite of the winter morning, he turned and hobbled down the street. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his favorite object, a beaten, dirty, chrome lighter his adopted sister had given him before he left for college. She’d had it for awhile, and considered it her own good luck charm for some reason. She messed with it while gaming, the boy had noticed. He opened it, and flicked it to life. The sight of the flame brought calm to his tired brain. It was almost like a drug to him, the sight of fire.

Closing the lighter, and continuing on his not-so-merry way, he realized he was lost. Sure, he’d been in this area before, but he’d never paid much attention- he never drove, or led. It was always a partner. Or, sometimes, partners.

Junkrat took out his phone, and looked for directions back to campus. He saw the time was 6:23 am. His first class was at 10, so at least he had time to get back to campus and shower. He felt filthy- make it two showers. He was exhausted though, and knew he wouldn’t be able to focus without some caffeine. He began to look around for some cafés, coffee shops, maybe a deli. Despite this city being described as one that rarely sleeps, there was barely anything open. Eventually he settled on a deli described as having the best coffee in the city. He very much doubted that it was, but he wasn’t really all that picky.

He was met with a breath of warm air when he opened the door to the eatery, and greeted by a large, tired looking boy around his age. His hair was tied up in a bun, and bleached white. There was a small pink stone in his septum piercing, and a dead look in his eyes. He gave a slight grunt of greeting, to which Jamie responded with a small wave. The larger boy seemed familiar to him, but he couldn’t quite place from where. Jamie looked around and saw a lot of snack foods, but no coffee makers, until he looked back at the boy. They were behind him. Grabbing a chocolate bar, he walked over to the counter, and spoke.

“’Ello could I get a large cup of coffee? Black.” The boy stared at him, and turned his eyes toward the chocolate, which in the short time span from shelf to counter, Jamison had somehow forgotten about. “Oh, and this.” The boy nodded, apparently not much for talking.

“That will be three even.” the boy mumbled. Jamison gave a quick nod, and handed over three single dollar bills. When the boy turned to grab his coffee, Jamison put the chocolate in his pocket and hoped it wouldn’t somehow melt, though he very much doubted it would, considering he wasn’t even kept all that warm.

“There you go, Junkrat.” The boy said, and startled Jamison, who turned quickly. He was unaware that he was known to him, considering he couldn’t even remember the other boy. Or, could barely remember the other boy. Jamie gave an uncomfortable smile, thanked him, and walked out.


End file.
